


Lay Waste the Sky

by rennegades (priest)



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: GFY, Gen, Parody, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 02:51:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3102788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/priest/pseuds/rennegades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Don't die. Bad things happen. Like becoming a puppet to the strings of fate.<br/>(at least, she thinks she died. That's usually how these things go-- you die, you wind up in an anime as character X, and you try not to destroy everything so you can at least sort of control where the story goes. Right? Right? </p>
<p>...it might have helped if it had been a series she'd paid attention to at any point in the last eight years.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lay Waste the Sky

It came slowly.

At first the world was a colorful blur of shapes and movement where nothing stayed or lasted for very long. Those were the times when everything was soothing and could cause delight. Other times were of darkness and cold that led to terror and to tears. Thankfully those were few and far between.

As time moved ever onwards, the shapes started to form figures and the smears of color settled into place. These were people and things, and suddenly there was a sense of _permanence_. If something left the field of view, it was not gone forever. It was just _over there._

_Over there_ became _over here_ became _back there_ and movement became something controlled and not something that happened. _It was so cool!_

Still... the dots didn't quite connect. There was _mama_ and _papa_ and even if the long straight stuff that swayed around mama's face looked wrong (shouldn't it be curly? darker?), and papa didn't have the short prickly stuff that grew under the part of his face that stuck out, they were still _mama_ and _papa_ and they knew everything. They had to be right, right?

Thoughts and limited understanding pushed forwards, and other things began to make sense. That was a table; you ate there. That was the kitchen, mama cooked there. You held hands with Papa when he wanted you to  _"walk"_ . Walking meant being up on two feet, instead of hands and knees.

Walking is what ultimately started it all.

Because with walking came falling, and with falling came cracking your head on a side table, and with cracking your head _you_ became _she_.

A sob caught in her throat, and tiny hands hands lifted to poke at the cut bleeding sluggishly on her forehead and Papa was picking her up and brushing her fingers out of the way to get a good look. The blonde man looked relieved and a laugh bubbled out of his throat, "Just a bump, my cute little Tunafish! You're so brave and strong! Not even any tears!"

_I don't cry over stupid things like bumping my head,_ she wants to say but the part of her that had been the all of her only a moment before held her back. It was also the part of her that kept her from freaking out and flailing about-- who even was _Papa_? Her dad was a grown ass man nearly sixty, not this kid that looked like he _might_  be her baby brother's age.

Even as he cuddles and coos to her, she's twisting in his arms to look around. The house is small and familiar and _hers but not hers_. It's not the home of almost thirty years that she remembers, but it is the home of the _her that was before her_.

It's all very confusing. There is the _her that currently is_ , the thirty year old woman struggling to come to terms with abruptly becoming a toddler in someone else's family. There is the _her before her_ , that may have been a boy because that is most assuredly a penis all hanging out down there, who is still curled up somewhere inside her making it a bit easier to come to terms with the sudden physical gender switch.

Sort of. Maybe. Kinda? Look, dicks are creepy. They were creepy when she was the woman before the her (him?) before her, and they're still creepy now.

It gets less confusing a few days later when she overhears her _mama-not-mama_ answer the phone and say "Yes, this is Sawada Nana." in that cheerful voice that soothes the _her before her_. It's like a clarion call to the her that currently is.

_Oh._

_My._

**_God._ **

_I am the insert in a self insert fanfic. What the shit, self?_

**Author's Note:**

> I kinda want to continue this, and I kinda don't.  
> It mostly just came about because I've read a lot of SI fics in the last couple weeks, and I just really wanted to use that final line.


End file.
